Spencer and I had been best friends for a while.  We did most everything together from the time we were out of Jr. High into High School until we went on our missions.  Spencer and I shared the same name and so everyone called me Haacke.  One day at school Spencer had a name tag on his chest “Hello I’m BIG.”  We thought this was hilarious and so we called him BIG the rest of high school.  BIG had the neatest personality.  He was very witty and funny but had the biggest heart out of anyone I have ever met.  He made me be a better person then and now.  We did almost everything together, in-fact, we opened our mission calls together.  Big was going to Lansing Michigan and I to Birmingham, Alabama.  So saying goodbye to him the night before I left on to Alabama was one of the hardest things I had to do.

Being apart from each other for two years we both felt it was time we did something that required some male bonding. What better way to have this reconnection of masculine, testosterone driven reacquaintance than to take skiing class together at the local college.  I didn’t know then that this would change both of our lives forever.

It was a blast going every Wednesday to Targhee Ski Resort to get a couple hours of instruction from a ski instructor and then play for a couple of hours on the hill.  I remember breaking out in random song lyrics as we rode the chair lifts up like “You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille,” and “You got a heart so big…” I was having a great time being with BIG again sharing stories of when we were apart.

This day was like any other day on the hill. Skip, our ski instructor, had us going through different drills and procedures that would help our skills on the mountain.  When we finished a chain of maneuvers he gathered us together and complimented us on how well we were doing.  I still felt awkward and vulnerable to wrecks but the next words out of Skip’s mouth ended any doubts in my mind.

“Would you like to do something fun?”

Now if you know me at all you know I am motivated by fun.  I love to do new things and the crazier the better.  The yellow personality in me screamed YES.

Skip took us to the bottom of the bunny hill and parked us next to a tiny little shack.  He instructed us to take off our ski’s.   As we did this as he brought out tiny skies that that barely fit on our already large boots.  He then told us to choose a bike.  Parked in front of the shack were these bikes that had ski’s that replaced the wheels and it had a really bouncy seat that absorbed and bumps you may hit.

After showing how to get on the chairlift we spent time riding the bunny hill going over wavy paths and having a great time.  We got used to it pretty quickly.

(this is where it gets foggy)

Skip indicated that this would be our last run down the mountain and we should meet him at the bottom.  He said that it would be a little more difficult, but to just follow him and we should be okay.  We went under the chair lift and it was not groomed like the rest of the bunny hill.  It was a lot steeper and harder to control than the bunny hill.  I don’t’ remember much but I kind of pieced together what I thought happened.  People wrecking in front of me and I dodging through them to avoid hitting them on my bike.  When I went over a snow embankment and continued to pick up speed heading down the mountain. That is when everything went black.

Spencer later told me that he saw me pick up speed and smack into a tree (some people still call me ScHmaacke to this day).  I laid there limp as Spencer pushed his way through the soft snow and gave me a priesthood blessing on that hill right then and there.  He knew how serious it was and as I asked him later on he just stated he that he felt it wasn’t my time to go.  That I was still needed on the earth.

I vaguely remember at one point looking seeing myself in a loud small room that shifted back and forth. (I believe that was the Helicopter)

The first clear memory I have is waking in a room that echoed.  I didn’t open my eyes while a woman asked me questions.  “What is your name?”  I would respond in accordance to their request.

“Do you know what happened?”  Came the next question.

“Yes, I was in an accident.”

I slowly work my eyes open and blink franticly to get my eyes to adjust.  The lights were dimmed and the roomed to be too large considering the lack of furniture in it.  I lay, or rather stick to a bed that seemed like it was sitting vertical.  I notice another woman standing by my bed, but I am unable to see her as my head is tightly strapped into a brace and bed.  I get the feeling that it is my mother.

“Do you know where you are at?” The women continues.

I look around the best that I could having my head strapped to the bed.

“Isn’t this Disneyland”  I said.

I could tell this was not the anticipated response as the nurse takes a short almost inaudible breath in and my mom quickly snapping that I need to be serious.  I heard my dad chuckle somewhere in the room.

“Yes,” I respond seriously, “I am in the hospital.”

I think that is the first time that everyone felt that everything was going to be fine.

The hospital kept me under close watch for a couple of days and then they said I could go home.  They gave me a list of things to look out for and strict instructions not to do any lifting over 5 lbs. Included on that list was if I ever leak spinal fluid out of my nose, eyes, or ears.  I was to not do anything mentally strenuous and so I had to drop out of school.  I spent much of my days watching M.A.S.H.

A couple days passed and my parents just got done making lunch and my dad helped me up.  I smelled this strange potent toxic odor.  I had thought my mom had been cleaning the bathroom again.  You would have to know my mom to know that only she could make the perfect cleaning solution combining bleach, oregano oil and melaleuca.  I started to eat lunch and my food tasted like toilet bowl cleaner and my nose was constantly running.  Either my mom was trying to poison me or one of the things the doctor told me to watch out for was happening.  My dad called the hospital and told them about my runny nose and strong smells.  They instructed us to come back in immediately.

They took me back into the hospital and they took samples of my dripping nose only to reveal that I was leaking spinal fluid out of my nose created by a crack in the part of your skull that my brain sits on.   They stated that I needed brain surgery immediately and so they arranged it for that next morning because I had already eaten that day.

My Parents and close friends (Spencer and Nathan Flemming) showed up that night to give me a blessing and I spent the night alone.  I have to admit that that was one of my loneliest nights I have ever had.  The next morning I was insisted that they shave my whole head because I didn’t want a sideways mohawk.  When they put me under they were getting me ready for surgery when I woke back up and insisted that they shave my whole head again.  This shocked them because this never happens.  They later said that anyone that could push through the knock out medicine only to tell them one more time to shave the whole head would probably be fine after the surgery.  Usually when someone is out they are out.  They waited until I was officially asleep.

The eight hour surgery only took 5 and they spent most of the time literally super glueing my head back together.  I was in the ICU for a week and then in the hospital for a week.  They sent me home and I was in the neck brace for 3 more months.  It was only then did I find that when I took off my neck brace that they had shaved my whole head except for what was under the neck brace.  They had left with a shaved head mullet.  I was hot.

I spent my days reading, watching movies, and quilting.  Thats right quilting.  I had a very kind neighbor spent Wednesdays helping me piece together a king size quilt from all the t-shirts I collected on my mission.

The rest, as they say in the movies, is history.